Epic Announcemnet + Excerpt: ELITE by Rachel Van Dyken
For Tracey Rooks, life with her grandparents on a Wyoming farm has always been simple. But after her grandmother's death, Tracey is all her grandfather has. So when Eagle Elite University announces its annual scholarship lottery, Tracey jumps at the opportunity to secure their future and enters. She isn't expecting much - but then she wins. And life as she knows it will never be the same . . .
The students at Eagle Elite are unlike any she's ever met . . . and they refuse to make things easy for her. There's Nixon, gorgeous, irresistible, and leader of a group that everyone fears: The Elect. Their rules are simple. 1. Do not touch The Elect. 2. Do not look at The Elect. 3. Do not speak to The Elect. No matter how hard she tries to stay away, The Elect are always around her and it isn't long until she finds out the reason why they keep their friends close and their enemies even closer. She just didn't realize she was the enemy -- until it was too late.
I pushed open the door and
immediately threw off my jacket, followed by my shirt. Then I addressed my
skirt. I heard chuckling.
My hands froze on my skirt’s
zipper. I looked up.
Nixon lay across my bed. “Please,
don’t let me interrupt. Continue.”
I flipped him off.
He laughed harder.
I quickly pulled on the
tank top I’d worn to bed and thrown across the chair. “What do you want?”
“Not sex, but thanks for
the offer.”
“I was not…” I took three
deep breaths. Arguing got me nowhere with Satan. “Why are you here?”
“Waiting for my sister.
What else?”
I exhaled in relief.
“What, you disappointed I
didn’t want an afternoon screw?”
“Not at all.” I sat far
far away on Monroe’s bed. “Besides, if you needed one, all you’d have to do is
knock on any door on this floor. Just be sure to use protection. I know how you
are about germs.”
“Only yours,” he sang.
I threw a pillow in his
direction, hoping to smack him in the face. He caught it mid-air and scowled. “Can
you at least wait for her outside?”
“Nope.”
“Why?” I ground my teeth
together. At the rate I was going I would have nothing left to grind.
“Because, I like your bed.
It’s comfortable.”
“It has my germs and I
swear to you I drooled all over my pillow last night.”
He shrugged. “I only hate
germs on people, not objects.”
Nixon looked at his watch
then put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
“Why?”
“Why what, Farm Girl?”
“Why don’t you like people
touching you? Is that your rule or an Elite thing?”
“You ask a lot of
questions for someone so stupid.”
That stung, but I was too
tired to let it sink too far into my consciousness. “It is the only way to find
out how to survive in this place.”
“You’ll survive, if you
follow the rules. I thought I told you that.” He propped up on his elbow. “The
system works, Trace. I know you think I’m an asshole, but if I was nice, they
would eat you alive. Wouldn’t you rather I do the tasting?” He smirked.
Damn, I was literally
itching to punch him in the jaw.
“Why can’t everyone just
be nice and get along?”
He groaned into his hands
and stood. “Maybe I will wait outside.”
“You do that.”
He walked to the door and
then stopped. “Has anyone made fun of you today?”
“Is this a trick question?”
I asked, jumping off Monroe’s bed. “You make fun of me all the time!”
“Other than me.” He shoved
his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Tell me the truth.”
“N-no,” I stuttered. “No one
made fun of me today.”
“I guess my point is made.”
“The hell it is.” I bent
down and picked up another pillow to throw at his face. “You think you have
that much power? To protect me from them? You think you’re that much better?
That what you do is better than what typical college kids could do to me?”
His eyebrows rose. “Care
to make a wager?”
“Fine!” I poked him in the
chest.
Nixon closed his eyes as
if in pain. “Please don’t touch me.”
I backed off but only
because he’d said please.
“I’ll stop bothering you…but
when I win—when you can’t take it anymore—when you are living in hell every
single day, I want to hear it from your lips. Not Monroe’s, not Chase’s. I want
you to approach me. I want you to tell me…”
“Tell you what?” I
whispered.
“That you need me.”
“When hell freezes over!”
I snapped.
“Bring a parka, because
life’s a bitch and you just bought a first class ticket, sweetheart.”
I was still in a crappy
mood when Monroe finally arrived. True to his word, Nixon sat outside, at the
door, waiting for her. Why he didn’t text her or call her I have no idea.
I couldn’t really hear
what they were saying. But Monroe was yelling, and Nixon was yelling, and I was
pretty sure one of them was going to throw a punch.
So I was really surprised
when Monroe bounced into the room with a wide smile on her face. “Guess what!”
“You killed your brother?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m
not that lucky, no.” With a huff she sat on her bed. “The Elect are throwing a
party tonight and I get to bring you!”
Excuse me while I pull out
my pom-poms. “Swell.”
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!
You can connect with her on Facebook or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.
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